


Sparrow and Lion

by daisyisawriter91



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, Feral Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Graphic Description, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Longing, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23737756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyisawriter91/pseuds/daisyisawriter91
Summary: When a lion has its teeth clamped around a sparrow, it tightens its jaw.So why does this sparrow still sing?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc
Kudos: 20





	Sparrow and Lion

It had been a long while since Yuri had heard sounds rattling above Abyss. It was eerily quiet above ground, the monastery too silent and decrepit for his liking.  
Everyone in Abyss had grown used to the sounds of life above their heads. Footsteps, always footsteps. Some voices resonated so deeply that they could nearly hear their words. Some parts of their underground haven were so thin they could catch entire conversations.

These days, they were lucky to hear a bird’s mournful wail. Mostly, it was rubble settling, or wind howling through the cracks in the foundation.

Yet life went on. And since Yuri couldn’t bear to listen to the world above, he blocked his ears and moved on right along with it.  
Until there was life.

Thieves, brigands, just looking for a place to stay for a while. As long as they didn’t enter Abyss, it was none of Yuri’s business. Yet when they moved around the halls he remembered walking with his freshly fostered friendships, he couldn’t help the seed of anger growing in his chest.  
He couldn’t attend to it. He didn’t have time. He had to worry about his people, nothing more, nothing less. He couldn’t help but imagine it, though. Taking back the blissful days the only way he knew how.  
They would never be back. He knew that, of course. But preserving the place seemed only fitting.  
If only he had a reason to leave Abyss for it.

Yuri could hear them trampling like beasts above his head. They seemed to be having a celebration of some sort. He could only imagine what they were celebrating, and decided he’d rather not know for certain.  
It had been going on for hours. While most of Abyss slept on, Yuri could not catch a wink. His regular haunt was the thinnest area of the city, and by the goddess, he was regretting that choice.

A headache was building beneath the surface of his temples, throbbing against his skull. How desperately he wished he could silence all of them with a flick of his wrist.  
Yuri tried desperately to focus on the task at hand. But it seemed to no avail, as the words didn’t force their way into his mind.  
Instead, he cast his quill aside and leaned back in his chair, heaving a heavy sigh.

He learned how to focus with the idle chatter of students and teachers, particularly when most would be asleep at the current hour. He was not used to graceless brutes.

Yuri tapped the desk with his fingers three times, contemplating. Sleep was the wisest choice, yes. But it didn’t claw at his eyelids just yet. His muscles had not yet tired.  
Tentatively, he opened the bottom drawer of his desk. His teeth raked over his lip, nervously. He didn’t know if he could face it.

It had been four years. He’d looked at it every night since the monastery fell for a full year. Finally, Balthus had intervened and told him to stop torturing himself.  
It had been four long years. Surely, he could handle seeing it again…

Yuri plucked the thick envelope out of the drawer where he’d left it for years. There wasn’t a day that went by where he didn’t think about reading it. Not that he needed to. He’d long ago memorized the slant of the letters.  
Dimitri had never been known to write much. But he’d written one pages long to Yuri, filled with things he wanted to say out loud but couldn’t bring himself to.  
Seeing the letters again made Yuri’s heart catch in his throat. He could hear Dimitri’s voice flooding back into his head, reading the words to him.

Mid-sentence, the illusion shattered.

Clearer than if he was standing beside it, a shout of pain rang through the room. It came from above.  
And then another.  
And another.  
And _another._

That was certainly enough of a reason to leave Abyss.

Yuri plucked his sword from beside his chair and strapped it to his belt, already on his way out the door.  
Running through the tunnels came easily.  
Hopping over debris, navigating the darkness. His eyes were well adjusted after so long.  
As he grew nearer to the exit, he could feel a rush of cold air hit his face. It felt like he could breathe again. 

Yuri leapt through the hole in the wall, glancing wildly around him.  
The ground was soaked with blood. The blood of the brigands, leaking from their broken bodies, left mangled on the ground.  
A trail of bodies. How delightful.  
Yuri drew his sword and followed the trail. It lead all the way to the chapel, a macabre breadcrumb path.

It was quiet. Eerily quiet.

Everything had always seemed to grow quieter near the chapel. But this? This was the silence of fresh death. A silence Yuri had grown rather familiar with.  
Whoever had slaughtered all of these rogues was not to be taken lightly. From the few glances Yuri had caught of them, they lacked tact, not skill.

Cautiously, never allowing the moonlight to glint off his blade, Yuri approached the chapel door. One had fallen off long ago, the other was soon to follow. It didn’t even work as a door, merely hung, limp, unmoved.  
Yuri pressed his back up against the broken door and took a silent breath. Whoever he would see, he could handle. He was quicker than they ever could be.

He peered around the door. He nearly lost grip on his sword.

A hulking figure in a bloodstained fur cape stood at the back of the chapel, staring at a patch of moonlight illuminating a pile of rubble. Blonde hair fell over his face. Armored hands clutched two spears, one soaked in blood, the other with the head broken off.  
Yet there was no mistaking it.

Yuri stepped out from his hiding spot, into the man’s line of view. It was clear his footsteps had been heard, given the tensing of the man’s shoulders. He didn’t mean to hide them.  
The man’s grip on the unbroken lance tightened. Yet he did not turn, clearly thinking Yuri was not a threat. Perhaps, in the state he was in, Yuri was little more than a flea to him.

“Dimitri,” Yuri called out. His voice was somehow stronger than he’d expected. His insides had turned to water.  
Dimitri’s head bent even further, hiding behind the bulk of his furs.

“Yuri...Have you not said enough for one night?” His voice was low and miserable. “I told you, this is a temporary respite. A stepping stone. More of her rats are on their way. I thought you’d appreciate how I protect your kingdom.”  
Dimitri was mad. He had to be. None of what he said made any sort of sense, and Yuri’s heart shattered in his chest.

“Oh, Dima…” Yuri murmured. He took a step forward, slowly, so as not to provoke him.  
It didn’t seem to work, as Dimitri spun around, pointing his lance towards Yuri. A sob caught in Yuri’s throat. His eyes began to sting.

He was handsome. His face had lengthened, his hair tickled his shoulders. Only one blue eye blazed out at him, but there was no mistaking it. Dimitri blue.  
Dimitri’s eye raked Yuri’s appearance, wild and confused. Yuri had changed, after all. Clearly whatever delusion Dimitri was experiencing hadn’t accounted for the passage of time.

“Sparrow?” If not for the silence of the chapel, Yuri wouldn’t have been able to hear the breathed word.

Yuri wanted to say something witty. He wanted to act like the old self Dimitri once fell in love with. But he couldn’t.  
“Dimitri,” Yuri repeated, too awestruck to add anything.

Yuri stepped forward. The lance clutched in Dimitri’s hand raised to a direct path to Yuri’s heart. A warning not to come closer. But he wouldn’t be deterred.

“I thought you were dead. That you died in Fhirdiad. I guess you shouldn’t put any stock in Imperial reports.”  
Dimitri released a growl from deep in his chest. It sent shivers through Yuri’s body.

“I may as well have died. The man you once knew is dead and gone. He was too weak for the burden I bear.”  
Dimitri turned back to the pile of rubble, lance once more at his side. He discarded the broken one, sending a clattering sound throughout the chapel.  
“Mourn if you must, it matters not to me.”

Yuri continued to move forward. Dimitri did not show any signs of noticing him. But then again, he showed no signs of noticing anything at all.  
“I did mourn, Dimitri. Every day for the past five years. Had I known you were alive…I would’ve pulled out all the stops to find you.”

Yuri reached out, barely brushing his hand over Dimitri’ arm. Evidently, it was enough.  
Dimitri turned back around, raising his hand to shove Yuri away. Yuri braced himself. He knew full well how strong Dimitri was.  
He could have moved. He would never show Dimitri he was afraid of him.

But his hand stopped, hovering above his chest. A menacing black gauntlet that covered burn scars and warm skin.  
His hand curled into a fist and fell back to his side, limply. When Yuri looked up, Dimitri did not meet his eyes.

“I’ve broken too many promises already. Get out.”  
Yuri shuffled backwards.  
“Fine. But I’m not letting you go without a fight. You may be content to act like a beast, but I’m not.”  
“If you stand in the way of my vengeance, it doesn’t matter what we once had. I will cut you down without hesitation. Now _go_!” Dimitri roared.

Yuri didn’t flinch. He didn’t let himself. He was not scared of Dimitri. He could never be scared of the same hands that held him so many times, the same hands that penned the letter Yuri clung to with all his might.

“As you wish,” Yuri bowed, deeply. He didn’t know if Dimitri saw it. It didn’t matter.  
Yuri turned on his heel and walked out of the chapel. He felt a burning gaze on his back as he left.

~*~*~*~*~*~

True to his word, Yuri was not deterred by Dimitri’s harsh dismissal. Instead, when dawn came knocking at the monastery doors, Yuri left Abyss once more. Business would resume as usual, particularly under Hapi’s watchful eye. 

Papers in hand, Yuri set up shop in the reception hall. Close enough to hear Dimitri, far enough away so that he wouldn’t have to see him.  
Every day for five years, Yuri had wanted to see Dimitri. He kept the desire to himself, under a lock and key so tight even he couldn’t open it. But when he was alone, he craved Dimitri.  
Now he could barely look at him. The eye of a broken man haunted Yuri’s already fitful sleep.

No more sounds echoed down to Abyss. Someone would have heard them. But everything carried the silence of death.

Yuri worked for half an hour in the cold winds of the Ethereal Moon before he heard heavy footsteps coming towards him. Footsteps that had no reason to hide.  
“What are you doing?” Dimitri’s voice was more of a bark. Yuri could never get used to it.  
He didn’t look up upon Dimitri’s entrance, making a show of being focused on his task. Nothing could be further from the truth. The numbers swam and melded before his eyes.  
“Balancing the books. Even if we are crooks, it still takes money to keep Abyss fed.” Yuri answered, keeping his tone light.  
“Why are you watching me?”  
“As you can clearly see, I’m watching the numbers, not you.”

Dimitri slammed his hands into the table. Nonplussed, Yuri saved his inkwell and papers before the table cracked under his force. Finally, Yuri looked up at him, thinning his lips into a line.  
“Stop playing games,” Dimitri growled. “Why are you here?”  
“Forgive me if I don’t want you to slip away from me again. Even if you’re not the you I once knew, you’re still Dimitri. And damn my heart, I care about Dimitri.” Yuri struggled to keep his tone the same unreadable lilt.  
“Your care is meaningless.”

The words stung more than a barb ever could. Yuri pressed on. “Maybe. But I can’t exactly get rid of it, so the least I can do is make sure your vengeance doesn’t get you killed.”  
“I will not die until I have taken that woman’s head from her body.”

Yuri set his inkwell atop the papers to keep them from blowing away and stood. He still had to look up at Dimitri, but it felt better.  
“And I don’t plan on leaving you alone until then. What happens when the man you love, the man you mourned for, suddenly comes back to you with a vendetta? Well, the only answer I can see, is you try to help him.” Yuri ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. Dimitri tracked the movement with something like suspicion. A hint of something else glimmered in his eye.  
“I may not understand the depths of your crusade, but I don’t need to. Besides, it’s beneficial to me, too. If the Empire found out about Abyss, I could only keep my people so safe before they invade and take everything from me.”

Slowly, Dimitri raised a hand. He eyed it, as though afraid of his own motions. Wary at what his hand could do.  
He extended it, ghosting above Yuri’s cheek. The heavy gauntlets stopped any warmth from leaking through.  
Yuri could not lean into the near-touch, not yet.

Just as he had the previous night, Dimitri pulled his hand away, closing it into a fist.  
“I will leave here tonight. If you are not there, I will leave without you.” Dimitri informed.  
“Isn’t the Millenium Festival tomorrow? Surely you should stay for that. Didn’t you make a promise?”

Dimitri froze. He did not answer, instead turned away and began to stalk out of the hall. Leaving Yuri alone once more.

However, his cloak fluttered to the ground near the entrance. Yuri approached it, cautiously, looking after Dimitri.  
He was already halfway across the bridge, a darkened figure with shining golden hair. He did not look back.  
Yuri picked up the cloak and stared at it for a moment. There was no doubt why Dimitri left it behind, even if he would never admit to it.

Silently, Yuri wrapped the cloak around his shoulders and returned to his papers, burying himself in the scent of it.  
Blood, Faerghan pine, and the distinct smell of Dimitri.

Dimitri had listened to Yuri’s request. Dimitri was still there, locked inside his own madness.  
For the time being, that sliver of hope was enough.


End file.
